


Love in an Explosion

by Gavorche_san



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Itisanotheroneshot!, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 18:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20511599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gavorche_san/pseuds/Gavorche_san
Summary: Deidara x ReaderNewbie, girl, pretty, weak. All the phrases he has for you are just that.





	Love in an Explosion

**Chapter One**

The first time he saw her, he knew she was that type of woman. Long hair, and deep blue eyes. They were so similar, yet her nose was shorter, and slightly turned up at the ends. Not only that, but her eyes seemed like they were in a different world.

Heh, she definitely wouldn’t last.

She pissed Deidara off. Here she was, this thin-legged creature in her new uniform looking all sorts of happy, distracting his men. He set his teeth, grinding them. How dare she be happy. The explosion corps was no place for a girl who looked like she would blow away at the slightest provocation. 

It was likely because it seemed like she  _ wouldn’t  _ last that caused the interest and he assured himself that was why she caught his attention. Temporary things seemed to be calling to him lately. His tastes hadn’t been exactly been solidified in art, but it seemed like he was on the right path. 

But she was taking  _ all  _ the attention. Of course, a famed singer-turned-ninja was bound to do that.

That made him narrow his eyes, crossing his arms.

She crossed the room and the fat old Tsuchikage smiled at her, personally giving her the Iwagakure headband as a sign she had passed. She smiled, almost jumping as she bowed, her hair bouncing prettily. The other men in the room covertly watched her breasts bounce as she raised her arms, tying the headband on.

He wanted to see her explode.

He wasn’t jealous. 

**Chapter Two**

“Deidara is has been assigned to be your captain. He is the best, according to the Tsuchikage anyhow.” 

Deidara grimaced.

The said captain had been sculpting in his private studio was she was brought in. He gave a dramatic sigh, hating to be interrupted. He attempted to ignore his subordinate who began leading  _ that girl _ around his fingers gliding through the slick clay to form glossy abstract shapes. The world slowly disappeared into that magical serene concentration he so craved, the satisfaction filling him. Slowly he formed a thin edge with chakra, testing his prowess. He got excited as he realized it may have been the best piece he had yet created.

Disaster hit. 

“Wow! That’s really great!”

His hand shot out, the piece along with his pride, utterly destroyed. His pupils shrunk, mouth open in unsayable despair, darkness descending over his face. And now, on the opposite side of the table was the enemy in all her glory. 

Her voice was flawlessly trained, often referred to be like a siren, but it had failed to elicit even a touch of sympathy in him as his almost all-consuming rage mounted. 

It should have ended badly. No doubt his subordinate thought it would by his slowly reddening face. 

Except he caught a glimpse of the girl’s face. 

She was horrified.

Without a second thought, she reached forward, cupping the fallen clay, attempting to right her wrong. Gently, she placed it on the table, her clay-covered hands shaking. Tears formed in her eyes. 

“I’m so, so sorry Captain Deidara. I was just so impressed.” She bowed to the ground, glorious hair falling down her shoulders, not realizing what she had done. He could clearly see her cleavage in the position. “It just when I see great art I get so excited.” 

His hands froze mouth opening, the red on his face rushing to his cheeks, chest-pounding. His pupils got even smaller, and he just knew that it was over then. 

For some damn reason, his anger suddenly transformed into some other feeling. 

He sighed.

The room seemed to lose its tension, the lowly subordinate watching in confusion as Deidara put his hands on the table to lift himself. 

“Hmmm. Whatever.” He grunted, leaving his studio, looking irritated. But, he was feeling strange and maybe a bit elated.

.

.

.

The girl had a quizzical look on her face, confused at the dramatic changes in mood from her new captain. She turned to the subordinate, who looked like he had been brought back from the dead. 

“What an intriguing man.”

Deidara smirked as he walked away.

**Chapter Three**

“Now listen here,” Deidara grunted, glaring impressively. He grunted in his usual manner, “ This is a  _ very  _ important mission, and I don’t need any of you messing it up! Got that!”

The girl watched as the blonde gesticulated grandly as if performing in a show that only these select team members could see. The girl admitted to herself that he had the charisma to be a superstar if her captain had wanted that.

She kept her face forward, paying close attention. She had worked hard to dig out her small space in the Explosion Corps. She was a fairly well-renowned singer, with work selling in most of the five great nations. She was even going to star in an upcoming movie about a Shinobi in the Explosion Corps.

But the real reason she took it was she had wanted to know what it was like to be a ninja. Her heartbeat against her chest, remembering the crap it had taken to be considered, the way many other ninjas looked down on her. They didn’t think she belonged here. She knew Captain Deidara thought that too. She could see it in his face. While he was only a few years older, he seemed infinitely out of her reach, absurdly intelligent and calculating since she had joined- He hadn’t been pleased, and neither had her manager. They hated one another as well.

But here she was, under the pretense of learning for her new role.

And she found that despite the fact the captain had been less than cordial, she found him very attractive. Not that it made him less of an asshole, but it was something she couldn’t deny. Long thick blonde hair, bright blue eyes, a strong figure that wasn’t too built. He was funny when he wasn’t being a jerk.

She didn’t let him get her down and was content to watch him while she learned. 

And that’s why she stood as only one of two girls in the entire squadron. Because she knew she had to do this.

Her resolve did weaken when she saw the blonde man come towards her, his smart red uniform and brown jacket firmly sticking to his body. His blonde hair covered an eye, but she only had to see mischief the other to know she wasn’t going to enjoy whatever he said. 

“Hey, miss  _ virtuoso.  _ You’ll be coming with me.” With a hand on his hip, she knew that this would either end up with them kissing- or killing one another.

It must be an artist thing.

**Chapter Four**

The first bombs went off quickly, and she performed handsigns to set off the remaining concealed ones. It was going well. Her confidence was growing.

Except, she then tripped over the wire she had set up for the barrage of kunai. Her quick escape to high-tail it back to the predetermined meeting place wasn’t going to happen. She stumbled up, running with her tail between her legs. Now she just needed to live, or her manager would kill her.

She had almost reached it, but she had failed to see the ninja hidden above her, higher in the trees. She felt a sharp pain as a kunai whipped past her shoulder, nicking it and making her lose her footing, falling to the ground and crashing hard once again.

_ Dammit _ , she thought.

A smug enemy ninja jumped down, ready to finish the job. She watched in horror as his sword swung down.

Then stopped in midair. Her eyes widened as the man struggled to lower his sword, but was stopped by what seemed to be a ghost. Then she saw the clay on his blade. Her eyes flickered high above, and she saw a mere trace of blonde hair before the guy threw the sword to the side, taking out a kunai.

He might have had a chance if he had run, but his fumbling was his downfall.

“Amateurs.” 

A humored voice behind the man said. He turned, but the figure was gone. That’s when she felt two arms pulling her up. As she looked up into Deidara’s near face, she felt her cheeks go red. He smirked towards the man.

“Boom.” 

And then the man went out with a bang, swearing one last time at them.

Deidara frowned. “Everyone’s a critic.” The girl looked up at him, relieved, but also impressed.

“Captain! Your style!” He looked down, wondering if she was going to say something stupid again. Instead, he was shocked as her eyes were wide in wonder.

“Yeah?” She put her hands out wide.

“SUPER FLAT!” 

He rolled his eyes, then let her arms go. She fell the short distance to the ground, bobbing her rear end. She scrambled up, quick to follow him.

“That a compliment!” She called out.

“Moron.” Yet, he had a feeling she was on to something. 

Man, he loved to hate this chick. And perhaps hated to love her.

  
  


**Chapter Five**

He was back in his studio, feet in the air on his desk. His arms were folded, and he stared through the skylight above. He kicked forward.

His missions were done, with just a nice long week of messy creation ahead of him. At least, that’s what it should have been like. Instead, he was sitting at a perfectly clean workbench, his hands not even touching the clay in the boxes at his side. 

She was on his mind. That damn woman whose every look taunted him encouraged him, sent him to heaven and that place below simultaneously. The way her eyes darkened when they flickered his way, her inviting lips.

Superflat, she said. Not to mention later how she childishly called his precious explosions a ‘bang’. What a rarity. 

His heartbeat loudly against his chest. He was a purist when it came to art, all his efforts focused on his goal. Still, those dreaded thoughts pressed in, tempting him mighty, telling him that something was missing, something she had.

His art was incomplete, and she held the answer, the desire, the pull under his flesh. He could see himself holding her up, on his back, skin against skin. 

Something outside crashed, and he bounced up. He bit his lips, then stood, throwing a random piece against the wall. 

“Captain.” 

He nearly jumped out of his skin, turning. There she was, holding onto what looked like a grocery bag. She looked nervous, obviously stumbling onto a private moment, and she was alone. No ignorant manager in sight. 

She held out the package, still at the door.

“I thought you might be hungry.” 

There was a sense between them, a knowing she shouldn’t enter this sort of threshold, that they could never go back. She took a hesitant step in, setting it on the floor. He only needed that little indication. 

He turned, walking over.

Instead of taking the food, he took her to his bed. 

  
  


**Chapter Six**

Time passed, love-making continued, and Deidara felt his world begin to turn. The longer he claimed this girl, the more his art seemed to take on meaning. Perhaps, even, to last. His inspiration, his must muse, his art. 

Edges smoothed over, like the way his hands worked her flesh. She returned his passions with her own form of provocative acceptance. 

They stole moments, lying naked on his studio cot like the young teenagers they were, daring the world to enter and catch them. No one did. All they knew is Deidara had done a virtual turn around on her. Not treating her preferentially, but certainly being nicer.

He was careful they would not suspect how crucial she was to him. Important as creation itself. He realized, at some point, that he had never even told her. How much he adored her, how much he needed her, how he couldn’t get her out of his mind. In his art, he saw her, molded her essence.

That’s why it destroyed him when she left. 

He  _ threw  _ the table across the workroom, the aides rushing out. The messenger was out cold on the ground. His letter lay on the floor in a crumple, the ink barely visible. 

He screamed at the people who dared stay and caused all sorts of havoc that would take weeks to fix. The confusion was thick in the air, and most assumed the young artist was having a temperamental art day.

As soon as it was empty, the young man sunk to his knees, jealous, insecure, resentful and enraged. 

How dare  _ she _ . 

The letter lay, unassuming before him.

_ Deidara, _

_ I have been asked by the Hokage to work as a singer in Konoha, and the Tsuikage wanted me to go and see if I could smooth things over. I didn’t have time to find you and tell you. I won’t be back. Keep working on your art! You’re amazing! _

_ Love- Yours _

_ . _

_ . _

_ . _

She has signed it with her name, curly and cute and all the things he hated. He knew that most of all, he hated that the village dared do this to him. How dare Tsuikage move as a political peon, just like a pawn. 

How dare she just go, his muse, his most trusted love. What was he supposed to do without her smiles, without her beside him? 

The only thing he could do, the only reason he had even bothered to stay in this stupid village was gone. He would need new inspiration, new scenery, a new muse.

His eyes narrowed. 

He would be the ultimate artist. 

  
  


**Chapter Seven**

When the girl woke up, she was halfway to Konoha. 

She had been muddled, hazy and she’d been more than startled to find herself packed away in a caravan. Her fear turned to anger as she saw her manager across her. 

“What the!” She proclaimed, ready to spill blood. Her manager shrugged, his explanation simple, about how if she wanted to expand her career, and help her fellow Rock Ninja, she was to leave. 

She would have killed him, except for his next words.

_ “Master Deidara recommended this course of action.” _

That is what had broken her. 

Months later, when she heard the news that Deidara had defected, and taken a Kinjutsu with him, she knew why he no longer wanted her.

She was no longer his muse. 

**Chapter Eight**

So much time had passed that when he saw the sign, he almost didn’t recognize her on it. Begrudgingly he admitted that time had only managed to improve on what he had lost. That long hair had become even longer, and her face matured into full beauty. 

Her dress was short, and there wasn’t much coverage as far as shoulders went. It was a progressive, sexier version that he couldn’t bear. She was supposed to remain in his memories, only revealing herself to him.

Those feelings of anger, jealousy, and possessiveness he thought were long gone apparently hadn’t abated in the least. No, they had only grown and transformed him. 

A terrorist, one of the most feared missing ninja on the continent.

Sasori must have noticed his distaste, pausing. His companion took a long look at the billboard, then turned to him. He turned away, nose in the air. 

“I wouldn’t have thought it possible. Are you appreciating the beauty of something besides your own ridiculous art?” 

“Hmph! Sasori, my man, you’re definitely wrong about that. I find this to be rather cheap sell out. Look at it. There’s not a drop of art in it.”

The puppet master declined, beginning to walk forward again at his slow rumbling pace. He couldn’t help poke whatever sore emotion Deidara was feeling. It wasn’t often that he looked that fierce. 

“I disagree. The singer has been rather popular for a number of years. I’d wouldn’t mind creating a puppet out of her. She’ll no doubt be remembered as a pioneer of her craft.”

Just like Sasori expected, Deidara sneered, scoffing loudly. 

“I dare you.” He drawled.

Sasori considered retorting, drawing him into a fight. But he rejected the idea, once again.

But there was no point in dragging it out since Deidara’s preconceptions of art had always been wrong. Besides, the singer didn’t interest him. It just was mildly entertaining to ruffle Deidara’s artistic feathers.

Deidara angrily turned away from the poster, continuing his walk. Now his day would be completely ruined. He was simply not capable of doing work whenever  _ she  _ was in his head. 

  
  


**Chapter Nine**

It didn’t her long to realize that no amount of victories, platinum albums, and well-sung arias were going to help her after so had been left behind. Only  _ him _ , just him, and that sort summer gave her real joy. 

She couldn’t say where Deidara was at the moment. His tracks went cold after he became an international terrorist, and her manager told her in no short term, to grow up and forget about  _ him.  _

No amount of favors, drugs or sex could do that. 

She focused on the one thing that actually could hold her attention: humanitarian work. She felt a need, in one way or another, to redeem him, so their relationship wasn’t tainted by his own destructive choices. 

So, on her super mega-tour, most of the money went to the people she felt needed it. Orphanages, health cores, hospitals. She had paid off the depth of thousands of people, paid for their lives. It had somewhat worked, if not completely consoling her.

Now here, her tour would end. Bright lights illuminated her singing on the large stage, here in the land of Rain. The concert here was free, open to the public since the land had been hard by ninja wars. It had been a strange event, the grim leader of the Village Hidden in the Rain staring her down when she made her request. His strange, purple ringed eyes gazing into her soul, testing her mettle. Her smile didn’t fade, her charisma was strong. Eventually, hearing her proposition of donating most of the proceedings to the nation (food fees, etc), he agreed, and that’s how she ended up performing on one of the few, rain-free nights.

Being the final night, she had to make it a good one. She gave her most of her soul or at least the parts that she could. The people who had been so grim and gloomy had eventually warmed up to her act, screaming in a frenzy. 

It was one of her better shows, despite the light sprinkles that came down. The city was also very peaceful, and she saw very few ninja guards from the city.

After finishing she bowed, going to the hotel her entourage set up to stay for the weekend before moving on. They were lucky, for as soon as they got inside the heavens opened, and it poured so hard she could hear the banging on the metal roof far above her suite. 

She was left alone, as was to her taste. Her room already had everything she could want. Well, almost everything. Moving to the window she watched the thick torrents poured down, and she felt the need to be in it.

She was quick to create a clone of herself, sleeping, then crawl out the window. The metal was slick, but she carefully made her way through the street below. Her disguise was simple- a frumpy dress with a waterproof cloak. Put an old woman's handkerchief over her hair, a hat over that, and she was someone's’ cranky old aunt. 

She didn’t plan on going too far- she just wanted to go to the bar her group had passed earlier. She had smelled something amazing, perhaps ramen? And she didn’t want to miss out. It was a tradition she had with her self. She didn’t know if the ramen here could beat Konoha’s, but why the heck not?

The bar was empty except for the man serving. He greeted her with common nonchalance, casually talking about the menu. She had picked out her fare and was waiting when the door opened behind her. 

The server welcomed them in and continued cooking. She didn’t get a good look at them, besides thick black cloaks and large farmer's hats. The server brought her food, then turned to the men who had taken a seat at one of the tables behind her, asking what they wanted. 

One gruff voice answered that he was fine.

The other voice almost made her drop her chopstick.

“Well, I think that whatever the old woman's having would be good, un. Sasori my man, you are wasting a  _ golden  _ opportunity here. Smells good.”

If she hadn’t spent years training for surprises, reporters popping out of nowhere, men stalking her, and occasionally ninja attacking her, she may have blown her cover. Her heart was beating madly, but she calmly continued taking bite after bite, the delicious meal turning into dirt for all she noticed. 

After eating, she casually adjusted herself, covering her face a little more before she stood, putting on an older voice to thank the man, and handing him a generous tip. 

She turned, in her peripherals  _ seeing him.  _ The man he was with was short and had many layers on, hiding from the storm. Him, Deidara. She wanted to run to him, scream at him,  _ lay in bed  _ with him. 

But it was too late. She walked out of the shop, and as soon as she turned the corner she started shaking. In the alley her hate came off, water drenching her long hair. As she looked to the sky, she saw a lone bird, looking for shelter. 

After all, how could she possibly catch an explosion? 

**Chapter Ten**

_ . _

_ . _

_ . _

_ Boom _ . 

.

.

.

I had spoken too soon. For me, I finally realized how to do it. Another explosion sent me flying, along with the guards. The girl who was disguised as me was screaming something incoherent. I regained my ground, dressed as a guard. 

I have spent endless hours wondering if I would ever see Deidara again. I didn’t know what I would say, how it would go, what I could ever do convince him that I wanted him. 

Not like this. I hoped it would be nothing like this.

It turns out all I needed to really do was be myself, and then the explosions would eventually follow. 

I felt the blood on my face as I sent a few kunai at the young man, who blocked them with no effort. It terrified me that he had known. He had become so different but was the same.

_ Deidara. _

His eyes seemed to glow, the fire’s he had started burning high around them. He was in that black cloak with red clouds. His golden hair flew as he sent barrage after barrage of small clay figures at us. 

I, having a much more intimate knowledge of him, had been able to evade and survive but there were broken bodies that surrounded me, my guards and friends lying dead. 

I ended up on the floor, confident my arm was broken.

The fake lifted her head, watching him approach her. the girl disguised as me. She could tell that he was angry and only got angrier as he approached, yelling that she didn’t recognize him, how could she trivialize him. 

He had come in all his glory, for his revenge. 

He wasn’t listening to the girl begging for her life, telling him that she was not the star he was looking for, she had never met him.

With all my strength I managed to stand, though my knees were shaking. I couldn’t be a coward, not even to save myself. The old Deidara would call me a coward if I tried. My heartbeat was loud in my ears as I stepped forward, footsteps quiet. Seeing the girl before him, clothes in tatters, made me angry, maybe even a bit envious. 

She saw the realization of the blonde-haired ninja, his fury of being fooled.

I ran forward, kunai in hand, raised above his head.

.

.

.

Blood dripped to the floor.

The girl screamed in terror, but she must have been on her last tendrils of strength because she fainted.

Deidara stood, turned, eye wide. The wind whipped through the area, droplets of light rain coming through the patchy roof his explosions had made. 

I felt a drop of rain on my own face, dirt running off.

Blood dripped off the hand Deidara had used to penetrate my chest. For a moment we looked at one another, and I felt a sort of unreal clarity. Slowly, I saw his eyes widen, and to my surprise, he looked horrified. The realization dawning on him. Hm. Maybe I had been hasty. Unwittingly, I leaned forward a tad. 

The was a glimmer of  _ affection  _ there that wasn’t expected.

“Captain.” I felt his hand move, and  _ then  _ it all came. The pain, the delirium, the fog. He pulled his hand out, and I fell back, expecting concrete. Instead, he caught me in his arms. To my surprise I saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes, his teeth gritted hard. 

“Stupid, un!” He seemed to growl. “Why the... why _ _ would you do that? I taught you not to be so stupid, why are you so reckless!”

“You.... still... Have a... short temper, captain.” I was looking at him, but at the look he gave me, then I  _ needed  _ to not see him. Dumb captain. I was the one dying. “I always liked that.”

His eyes widened.

“Shut up!  _ Why?  _ Why did you do that?” At that moment he realized the time was short, and his entire soul seemed to come out. “Why did you leave? Was your  _ career _ worth it? My girl, if you die and don’t tell me I will  _ never  _ forgive you!”

My eyes widened, then there was a moment of lightheadedness. Then, a quaint smile came to my lips.

“My manager insisted  _ you _ requested it.” Then, for the first time in the longest time, we both gave one another weak smile. Yes, all was right now. I had never stopped mattering, as he hadn’t left because he rejected me. 

My vision started to stall and I started coughing. His look became terrifying. 

“I  _ will _ kill him.”

“Dei-”

“Don’t try and stop me.” I smiled.

“How could I stop true art?” I coughed up blood. “No...After all... art-”

I felt his lips on my own, a deep kiss.

Then, blackness.

-X-

Deidara looked up, mouth set in a fit of deep anger. He held the dead girl in his arms, finger becoming tight.

“Art...  _ is an EXPLOSION!” _

For a three-mile radius, there was a huge boom, a giant explosion consuming the area.


End file.
